


Great Expectations

by FancyFree2813



Series: Layers (originally named The Goofy Mountie Series [16]
Category: due South
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:41:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26933023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyFree2813/pseuds/FancyFree2813
Summary: After a rather angsty intro Renfield and Kerri throw a costume party to christen the new bookshop and Ray Kowalski has a dream
Relationships: Renfield Turnbull/Kerri
Series: Layers (originally named The Goofy Mountie Series [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954873





	Great Expectations

**Author's Note:**

> And as just a bit of clarification, at the time this was being written Paul Gross was performing Hamlet in a really great adaptation of that play. This will make sense later on in the story.

Prologue:

Renfield Turnbull awoke with a smile on his face. It was the middle of the night, 2:07am, by the clock on his nightstand. He awoke many nights recently with the same deep feeling of contentment, the feeling that life was just about perfect, and that all was almost right with the world. He spent many quiet moments just like this silently thanking God that He had brought him to his senses and brought him home. He turned on his side and watched his wife as she slept. He hadn’t told Kerri that he spent most nights this way, praying and watching her sleep. He hadn’t told her that he had promised God that he would always watch out for her or asked Him to heal them both. Heal them of the memories of René and the terrible things that he had done. With each passing day, Renfield felt freer and freer of the consuming hatred he felt for his twin brother, and the disgust he felt toward the woman who had turned out to be his mother. He knew that Kerri was not completely free of the memories of René, but he prayed that someday soon she would begin the healing process as well. 

As he watched her sleep, Kerri began to stir. He knew that she still had bad dreams, dreams that she did not share with him, for fear of upsetting him. He knew that since he had come home several weeks ago, Kerri had kept many things to herself, memories and fears, in an unspoken attempt to protect him.

He frowned as she writhed in her sleep, vainly attempting to out run the demon that chased her in her dreams. With growing concern, Renfield reached across her chest to draw her into his arms, and, though still asleep, Kerri panicked. She struggled against Renfield’s hold on her with all her might as she screamed. Terrified, he at first tried to hold her close to him, but then released her as he began to fear she would hurt herself.

The moment he loosed his hold on her Kerri bolted from their bed. Still only half-awake she ran to hide between their dresser and the wall. Renfield was close on her heels, but only followed her, he made no attempt to touch her again. She shoved her slender body as far into the corner as she physically could get and spun around to face him. Even in the darkness he could tell she did not see him. Her eyes were unfocused and glazed over as she wrapped her arms around her waist and trembled.

Renfield still made no attempt to touch her but spoke to her in soothing words. “Kerri, it's Renfield. Please listen to me, you’ve had a bad dream. René is dead, Kerri, he can’t hurt you anymore.” He wanted so desperately to hold her as her trembling turned to full body shudders. He had no other choice but to speak more loudly, and with more authority. “Kerri! You were dreaming. René can’t hurt you anymore. I…I killed him to protect you,” his loud words faded to whispers as he pleaded with her, “I killed him to protect you…”

He saw the change come into her eyes, as she suddenly became aware of her surroundings. His heart shattered into a thousand pieces as he watched her eyes widen in realization and as she threw her hands to her face. Before he could react, Kerri slid to the floor and sat naked, with her arms wrapped around her knees and began to cry.

Although still afraid his touch would frighten her, he knelt on the floor and gently touched her arm. He was immediately alarmed at how deeply she was trembling. Without a word he sat in front of her and drew her on to his lap, where he rocked her gently. He was at a loss at to what to say, and felt she wouldn’t really hear the words anyway, so he began to babble softly into her hair. “I saw Constable Fraser and Inspector Thatcher with their heads together over some report or other today. I think they make a very handsome couple, almost a handsome as us. Did you know that the Griffiths have two labs, Carob and Cameo? They’re chocolate colored. Can you imagine two labs under one roof; one is almost more . . ."

Renfield continued his monologue for a very long time before he became aware that Kerri had stopped trembling. She was still crying, but his arms and his words where having the desired effect. He continued to rock her gently and began to try to get through to her. Again he whispered to her, “shh, it’s all right. It was just a bad dream. I’m here and I will never let anything or anyone hurt you, ever again. I love you more than life itself, and I promise to love you forever…”

“E…even if…if I have a…a red…nose…and…and…sw…swollen…eyes?”

Renfield breathed a very deep sigh of relief and drew her more snuggly against his chest. “Well,” he hesitated just long enough that he could feel her attempting to smile. “Runny nose, swollen eyes, blotches on you face and short hair, you’re still the most beautiful woman in the world, and the woman I love.” For the first time in over an hour, Renfield felt Kerri relax in his arms.

They sat there for a few more minutes before Renfield dared to ask, “could we get up now? This wood floor is awfully hard on my bare behind.” Kerri was completely done in and found it difficult to stand. But with the help of her partner, soul mate, lover and husband, Kerri got to her feet. 

Renfield tucked her in to bed and rushed to get tissues and a wet cloth. Her face was a mess, but he lovingly dried her tears and wiped her face. Within five minutes Kerri was fast asleep.

Renfield did not sleep for the rest of the night, fearful that Kerri might have another nightmare. 

Shortly before their alarm rang, he switched it off and quietly got out of bed. He made as little noise as possible as he prepared for work, determined not to awaken Kerri. He quietly carried his uniform to the bathroom where he fastened all the necessary fastenings and buttoned all the necessary buttons. Sometimes he wondered who had designed these uniforms, obviously someone who knew they would never have to wear one. 

Tiptoeing to the bedroom door with his boots caused him to smile. He knew Kerri would laugh out loud at seeing a man of his size and ‘grace’ tiptoeing. It actually seemed rather funny to him too. He placed the boots quietly by the door and tiptoed to the closet. 

He was momentarily perplexed at how he would find what he sought without making any noise. He knew it was in here somewhere, in a box that he had moved with him from posting to posting. A box that he rarely opened, or looked at for that matter, but one that contained numerous treasures too valuable to ever part with. He carefully pushed back the clothes hanging in the way and scanned the assorted stuff on the floor. Drat, he thought, where is the blasted thing? 

He turned to the other side of the narrow space and drew back Kerri’s clothes. This required a little more effort, as her clothes were already very tightly packed into the small closet. At last he spied his objective, a medium sized cardboard box, with assorted addresses crossed t hrough on the flaps. He reached into the box, purposely avoiding a baby blanket that had belonged to Meghan and a knitted cap that Melanie had made for him. He dug through the contents until, at the very bottom he felt what he was searching for, soft fur-like fabric. Aha! Just touching the fabric made him smile. He hoped that this small stuffed creature had the same effect on Kerri that it had always had on him.

He straightened the clothes as best he could (why did women always have so many different types of clothing?) and turned out the light prior to opening the door. It was light outside now, and soon it would be time for him to leave, but he had one more thing to do before he could go.

Renfield perched on the side of their bed and starred at Kerri. God, how he hated to wake her, but it had to be done. “Kerri?” he called softly. “Kerri, wake up.”

She shifted slightly and frowned. When she opened her eyes she immediately smiled and then closed them again. It took a few seconds for her to open them again, but when she did, and saw Renny’s eyes, the smile was back in an instant. Then suddenly, as she focused on him through swollen eyes, she frowned. “Renny, you’re already dressed! What time--” She glanced at the clock and struggled to get up. "I’ve overslept! You should have waked me up. I’m going –”

“No! Kerri, please don’t get up? You need some rest. Please stay in bed today?”

“Renny, you know I can’t –”

“Yes, you can. I’ll leave a note for Lance. He can take care of things in the shop. Please? I can’t stay home, I’ve missed too much work already, and I still have my disciplinary action to serve. But I’ll worry about you if you don’t get some more sleep. Please? Just ‘til lunch? I’ll come home and fix you something to eat.”

The pleading look on his face actually concerned her. He was really worried about her, and she couldn’t have that.

She grudgingly conceded. “Well, okay, if it will make you feel better. I am rather tired.”

Renfield sighed in relief. And then he smiled shyly. “I have someone I’d like for you to meet.” From behind him on the bed Renfield pulled out a medium sized gray and white stuffed wolf, its pink felt tongue lolling to one side, just like Dickens’ did every so often. “This is Wolffy. Wolffy meet Kerri.”

Kerri’s brows knitted together in confusion as she stared at the well-worn stuffed animal.

“My mother gave him to me when I was very small. We’ve been through a lot together. He’s soaked up a lot of tears, heard all manner of kid complaints, and been my best friend through some pretty tough times. When my mum died and I was trying so hard to be so strong for my dad, Wolffy let me cry on him countless times. There were times, even into my late teens, when I’d look at him and feel as if my mum were there in the room with me. He’s been a great comfort to me, and I’d…well, I’d like for you to have him.”

Kerri was deeply touched that Renny would open up to her like this. “I’d be honored to have Wolffy for a friend, but he will always be yours.”

“Then he’ll be both of ours,” Renfield said as he tucked Wolffy under the covers with Kerri. “Now you rest, and I’ll see you at lunch.” He kissed her gently on the forehead and looked at the ragged stuffed wolf. “Take good care of her Wolffy, she’s a very special lady.”

Before leaving the room Renfield drew the shades and turned on the window air conditioner. He knew a dark, cool room would be much more conducive to Kerri’s rest. That and Wolffy should do the trick.

Kerri smiled as she watched Renfield grab his boots and quietly close the door behind him. She fully intended to get up as soon as she knew he was gone, but as she drew the stuffed animal against her chest she forgot about the work that waited for her downstairs. The sense of peace and comfort she felt was almost overwhelming. As she held Wolffy to her she almost felt as if Renfield’s mother was there in the room with her, holding her and telling her everything was going to be all right.

Kerri was fast asleep before Renny had made it halfway across the living room.

Renfield made it to the center of the living room before he felt compelled to stop. Slowly he turned full circle, taking in the home that he and Kerri had created for themselves. He smiled as he remembered the day they had wallpapered the dining area. Kerri had said the first time she saw the apartment over the bookshop that this room was large enough to be two rooms. And so they had made a living room and dining room out of the space that ran the length of the apartment, dividing in two by wallpapering the far end. Neither of them had ever attempted hanging wallpaper before, but how hard could it possibly be?

They had learned the true strength of their relationship that day. Kerri had said, with wallpaper paste in her hair, on her face, and in her mouth, that if their relationship could withstand wallpapering together, it could withstand anything life could throw at them. They had hired a professional to hang the wallpaper in the kitchen.

Renfield giggled out loud as he remembered one special day last winter when he had come home for lunch. Somehow they had ended up on the braided rug in front of the fireplace, more intent on each other’s bodies than on food. They hadn’t noticed that the hardwood floor on which they enjoyed themselves creaked loudly, loudly enough that it had everyone in the shop below smiling in that certain knowledge of exactly what was going on upstairs. Even Father Behan, who had come in looking for a book on comparative religion, was smiling as Renfield came bouncing down the stairs. Renfield still blushed at the thought of Kerri asking him why it was necessary to get that particular spot on the floor fixed.

Renfield scratched Dickens’ head absentmindedly as he surveyed the room. They had been very happy here, living and working and loving. He would fight to the death anyone who tried to take this away from him. But a demon had crept into their lives to threaten them. He had killed the man, but God help him, how would he kill the memory?

As he stood in the center of the room he was sure he heard someone speaking to him. He knew it wasn’t possible, he was alone here, but the voice spoke directly to his heart. And just as suddenly as René had entered their lives, Renfield knew exactly how to deal with the memories.

He grabbed his keys and hurriedly scribbled a note for Lance. Inspector Thatcher would be able to help him; she would know just what to do. As he dropped Lance’s note on the front counter, Renfield set about convincing himself that there was no shame in seeking professional help. Just as one sought the help of a physician to help heal a physical ailment, there was no shame in seeking the help of a counselor to help heal an emotional ailment.

He smiled to himself as he locked the door of the bookshop behind him. They’d sought the help of a professional paperhanger to save their relationship, now they’d seek the help of a professional counselor.

Renfield whistled as he drove to short distance to the Consulate.

**Great Expectations**

Ray Kowalski set the heavy package down on the sidewalk and stood, in the growing darkness, across the street from the bookshop. He’d been away for three weeks and the changes in the exterior of the old building surprised him. He knew they’d been working on it, he’d been going to help them. But then his mom had gotten sick and he’d decided to take some time to spend with his folks. Thank God his mom was fine now, but she’d scared the hell out of him. He was the only one of his friends whose parents were both still alive, and even though he didn’t always get along with his dad, he thanked God that both of them were still hanging around.

Turnbull and Kerri had certainly done a lot with the place in the time he’d been gone. He laughed to himself as he thought back to the first time that he’d seen the bookshop. Well, actually not the first time he’d seen it, he’d driven by the place countless times, but had never taken notice of it until the day Turnbull told him he was going to buy the run down building. He’d been shocked that Turnbull could afford it, but not the least bit surprised that he’d want to buy the place for Kerri. Turnbull had been goofy for her from the moment they’d met and would have given her the moon if he could have reached it.

The building had been, well, kind of shabby, just a plain three-story brownstone like so many others in the neighborhood. As he remembered, the second floor had been as dumpy as the exterior. But Mr. Murphy had kept the first floor, with its high ceilings, worn but polished hardwood floors, and tall mullioned windows, as neat as a pin. The first floor, that housed the books and the lunch room, Kerri called it a tearoom, hadn’t needed much work, but Ray rolled his eyes as he thought of all the elbow grease he and Frase and Turnbull, and, okay, Meg had put into the apartment on the second floor. Turnbull insisted that it be spic ‘n span spotless before Kerri saw it for the first time. And Turnbull’s definition of spotless was exactly that, the man used an old toothbrush around the burners on the stove, for God’s sake!

He remembered muttering to himself as he climbed the creaky, dusty steps that led to the hot, airless attic. Just so he could get to the roof with that stupid red ribbon. The plan was for Fraser and Thatcher to stretch one section of the broad ribbon from one corner of the building to the other, and then Ray would drape the other section from the roof to the ground. Turnbull had made the biggest bow Ray had ever seen to be hung where the two sections of ribbon intersected.

He was standing on the roof when he saw Turnbull park his car around the corner. Determined that he was not going to be the only one to miss Kerri’s reaction he’d almost fallen down two flights of stairs and tripped over one wolf and one really stupid yellow puppy in his rush to get down to the front of the building.

Enduring the hot, stuffy attic, the even hotter roof, and almost breaking his neck on stairs and dogs had all been worth it, though. The look on Kerri’s face had been worth all his pain and suffering. She was so shocked and thrilled Ray thought he might lose it, right there on the street.

He was jarred back to reality as Kerri passed by the bookshop’s front windows. Ray knew exactly when he began to fall in love with Kerri: the first time he’d seen her. She’d been standing on a stepladder in Meg’s office, barefooted, with her long blonde hair falling in her face. He’d thought she looked like an angel, but sexy too. Legs that wouldn’t quit and a body just made to be held. If he’d known then that she and Turnbull were already becoming involved he might have left it at that. But he didn’t know until it was too late, for him at least. The more he knew her the more he thought Kerri was just about perfect. Perfect to the point that he had started having dreams about her, those kind of dreams. 

He laughed to himself as he stood staring into the front window of the shop. He knew when he started falling in love with her, and he was pretty sure when he started falling out of love with her. It was the day she had gotten that god-awful haircut. It was really a minor thing, really kind of stupid, but without her long blonde hair she wasn’t quite as perfect, at least to Ray. Just a tiny crack in her perfection, just enough for Ray to free himself from her hold on him, just a little chink, that allowed him to flee for his life and sanity. Oh, he still loved her, sort of like the sister he never had, but, thank God, the other love, the physical attraction, was gone! How he thanked God for that haircut.

Kerri moved away the window and left Ray free to study the changes they had made to the outside of the building. They had put green awnings over the tall, narrow windows on all three stories. He liked the color, kind of like the top of a pool table. They had curly edges, scalloped he thought it was called, and were trimmed with white cord like stuff. The windows were arched at the top, and the awnings followed the line of the arch. Two tall windows on the first floor and three on the second floor glowed with lights from within the building. They had hung a brass rail across the back of each first floor windows, to create a display area, and hung short green curtains from the rail, to separate the display area from the rest of the shop.

There were tables and chairs on the sidewalk, for the party, he guessed, and a string of paper lanterns from one side of the building to the other that sagged slightly in the middle. With the brightly colored lanterns shining in the darkness and the windows on the first and second floor blinking merrily with party goers moving in front of them, the building looked for all the world as if it were smiling at him, inviting him in, to the warmth and affection that Kerri and Turnbull so freely offered. The building looked like it was loved and loved the people inside in return. He cringed at the thought. Well, that’s just stupid, Kowalski, he thought

He was about to step into the street, to run across and jump right in and party hardy, when he finally noticed the new sign above the first-floor windows. He frowned deeply, he’d told them he didn’t like the name, he’d voted for ‘My Back Pages’ the name of a song written by his man Bob Dylan. But the Charles Dickens fans in the group had out voted him.

So there it was in big, bold, shiny gold block letters, the new name for the bookshop: ‘Great Expectations’. Ray wrinkled his nose, it sounded like the name for a shop where pregnant women went to buy clothes.

That made him just a little sad, knowing that Kerri would never be able to have children. But he guessed Turnbull would more than make up for that, with all the kids he attracted to the shop. Turnbull was a kid magnet, kids and dogs. Thank God it wasn’t him, Ray had convinced himself that kids and him just didn’t mix, and dogs – well forget that!

He was late for the party when he arrived across the street and really late now, so he picked up the package of beer and hurried across the street. He hesitated at the door just long enough to shove his arms into the sleeves of the trench coat and turn up the collar. He pulled a gray fedora out of the pocket and down onto his head, cocked slightly over his left eye, and for the finishing touch, fished a toothpick out of the other pocket. Chomping down on the toothpick, he glanced at his reflection in the front window. Yep, he thought as he admired his reflection, Bogey at his best: Philip Marlowe in all his private eye glory.

Ray arranged the coat, picked up the beer and sauntered into Turnbull’s ‘come as your favorite fictional character’ costume party.

____________________________________

They had pushed all the bookshelves from the center of the narrow room against the walls to allow space for all the people they expected to attend the party. And lots of people there were, too. The room was packed with people in all manner of fictional character costumes. He doffed his hat toward Lt. Welsh, who leaned, with a beer in one hand, against the books on the far wall. On his other hand he wore a hook, over one eye a black patch, and on his head a tri cornered black hat with a very large white plume sticking out of it. The coat he wore was bright red, much like the Mountie uniform, but that was the only similarity. His tall, cuffed boots were black and had buckles on the toes. Aye, matey, Ray thought, and a fine Captain Hook he makes, too! Ray reminded himself to ask old Cap’n Hook if the phrase was ‘shiver me timbers’ or ‘sliver me timbers’, he had a bet to settle with Frannie.

Ray was looking around the crowded room for anyone else he knew, when he spotted something he could not believe. There was Frannie, his former sort of sister, wearing a rather long, for Frannie anyway, pale blue dress with a white pinafore over it. She also wore a long blonde wig – Frannie as Alice in Wonderland was almost more than he could get a handle on. He almost laughed out loud as he thought about the similarity between the two of them. Yep, he thought, she acts like she slipped through the looking glass a few times.

As soon as Frannie spotted Ray she came running and threw her arms around him in a great big kid sister hug. “Hey, ya bro!” she yelled over the racket in the room. “We’ve missed ya!" Her welcoming smile faded as she became very serious, “yer Mom doin’ okay?”

“Yep, she had pneumonia, but she’s a lot better now.” Ray looked around the room, “pretty cool party, huh?” The room was crowded, loud and very hot, just Ray’s kind of place. “What’s the deal with Little Bo Peep? That’s one the them nursery rhymes, not a fictional character.”

Francesca was obviously enjoying herself immensely but did not care for Ray’s humor. “You know I’m supposed to be Alice in Wonderland!” When she realized he was teasing her she punched him in the arm. “An who you s’posed ta be, a flasher?”

They both were laughing as Kerri came up behind them. She embraced Ray before he had a chance react. “Ray, we’ve missed you! How’s your mother?”

He pushed her to arm’s length, but still held her by the shoulders. “She’s fine.” Remember the hair, remember the hair, look at the hair!

Kerri eyed him curiously. “Are you okay?”

“Great, just great. You just took me by surprise that’s all. You look – good – really, really good.” That was an understatement. Kerri wore a very, very low cut, floor length gown of deep red velvet, trimmed in gold, with wide, flowing sleeves, the tips of the tapered cuffs almost touching the ground. Her hair was damp with perspiration and fell in short, moist curls all around her face. She’d obviously been in the kitchen, because her cheeks were flushed deep pink from the heat. At the beginning of the evening she must have had a wreath of fresh daisies in her hair, but now they were rather wilted and drooped enticingly over her ears.

But it was her eyes that stopped his traffic. Her face glowed, but her eyes sparkled, just as they had the day she and Turnbull got married. Ray was at a loss for words, she was prettier than he had ever seen her. Well, damn!

Frannie was no dumb cookie. She knew what was up with Ray, and decided he needed a little sisterly help. “Kerri’s s’pposed ta be Maid Marion, ya know from Robin Hood and his happy guys?” She elbowed him in the side to get his attention. “Ya know?”

“Uh, yeah sure. Marion.” Ray finally found his voice, “so that means Turnbull’s –”

A hardy slap on the back turned Ray around to see green, a whole lot of green. “I’m Robin Hood, Ray, and it’s great to see you back! Is your mother recovering?”

Again Ray was at a loss for words. Turnbull wore a green sleeveless tunic kind of thing that went to his knees. Under it he wore a long sleeve knitted green shirt and green tights. Even his cap was green. He was wearing a few brown things, a leather belt with a wooden buckle and brown leather boots. The feather in his cap was also brown. He looked exactly like the jolly green giant. All he needed was a can of corn. Ray succeeded admirably in keeping from laughing his head off. 

“Ray? I asked you what was in the bag?”

Ray realized there was a whole conversation going on that he hadn’t heard one word of. “Uh, it’s, uh, beer. I brought beer.”

Renfield looked thoroughly confused. “Thank you kindly, Ray, but that really wasn’t necessary, we have plenty.”

Ray finally regained his composure. “Yeah, but this is a party thrown by Canadians. Ya probably got beers like Moose Drool or Salmon Slime, or somethin’.” 

Renfield knew Ray too well to be offended, so he just laughed. “How about I take this and put it on ice?” Renfield took the heavy package and disappeared into the tearoom. 

When Ray turned back to Kerri and Frannie, Frannie was frowning deeply at him. Ray had no clue what her problem was. “What?”

“Real nice ‘Mister I know all about offending Canadians’. Ya Prob’ly hurt the big guy’s feelins.”

Kerri smiled at Alice/Frannie. “I don’t think so Francesca, Renny’s used to Ray’s put downs.”

Frannie muttered under her breath as she walked away, “yeah, right.”

Suddenly Ray and Kerri were alone in the crowded room. “You really do look good, ya know? I guess I don’t need ta ask how the shrink visits are goin’. You two are lookin’ pretty goofy again. You doin’ okay?”

Kerri grinned at him. “You think I look ‘goofy’? Don’t answer that if you want to get out of here alive! Actually, we’re doing great. We’re learning an awful lot about each other and ourselves. No more trying to keep things to ourselves for fear of hurting each other.”

“No more nightmares?” Shit! Maybe Turnbull hadn’t told her Ray knew about that. “He just told me you were having bad dreams, about…Laurier. He was really worried.”

Kerri grabbed his arm and walked him toward the tearoom. “It’s okay, I was pretty scared too. It’s been almost six weeks and no more nightmares.” Kerri thanked God every day that now when she dreamed they were the regular nonsensical kind that everyone had. “I’ve got to go see to our other guests. Have something to eat,” she looked at him slyly, “and try a Molson Lager, you just might find you like Canadian beer.”

Kerri turned to reenter the main room leaving Ray with just one thought, LOOK at the hair, look AT the hair, look at the HAIR!

____________________________________

Ray gaped at the buffet laid out on the worn oak tables in the small tearoom. Every neighbor for blocks must have contributed something. He recognized Debbie and Pietro Desmone’s lasagna and manicotti, Mr. Fong’s eggrolls, and Mrs. Gamez’s enchiladas, his personal favorite. There was ham and roast beef, all kinds of cheeses, pasta and fruit salads. There were also a whole lot of things he couldn’t name, and everything looked delicious!

He loaded his plate first with the recognizable foods deciding he’d come back for the unrecognizable stuff later. He carried the plate back into the main room, still in search of familiar faces. The first one he saw caused him to shudder. From a black silk cape, lined in red and a black silk top hat, Mort beckoned to him with a single crooked finger. When he smiled he revealed two reddened fangs - Count Dracula in all his ghoulish glory. No way, José! Ray shuddered as he headed toward the back of the building.

He turned the corner and ran headlong into a duck beak. “What the hell? Huey, what the hell are ya carryin'?” Ray knew the answer, but still couldn’t believe it.

“It’s too hot in here to wear this thing, but Dewey insists I at least carry it. Yer mom doing okay?” Ray nodded as Huey looked down at his duck body. “This was his idea. I told him it was dumb –”

“It’s not dumb!” Tom Dewey walked up behind his partner, wearing the exact same costume, and Ray almost missed his muffled words. While Huey opted to carry the head to his costume, Dewey had apparently elected to leave the duck head on. “Huey and Dewey are perfectly fine fictional characters. Get it, Kowalski? Huey and Dewey?

“Oh yeah, Dewey, I think everyone in the room gets it. But they’re cartoon characters!” Ray frowned at the outlandish feathered costumes. “And a duck is still a duck.”

Ray couldn’t help staring at them as they both waddled off, Huey’s words ringing in his ears. “I told you I wanted to come as Superman.” 

Dewey scoffed at him, “Superman’s a cartoon too. Besides, he’s white.”

“Well, at least he’s not a duck!”

Ray found a fairly quiet spot to eat his dinner and could only snicker at the other detectives as they retreated, their white tail feathers swishing as they waddled.

____________________________________

After finishing his first plate of recognizable food, Ray continued his search of the overcrowded room for someone he knew, someone who was wearing a civilized costume, like his. He finally spotted a friendly familiar face, okay, two friendly faces. Fraser and Thatcher were standing toward the back of the room, near the stairs, their heads together over some small object Fraser held in his hand.

As Ray made his way toward them he tried to figure out their costumes. Meg looked like Marie Antoinette, with a silver wig piled high on her head and a shiny brocade gown that revealed as much cleavage as the gown Kerri wore. They were from different times, however. Whereas Kerri’s dress was rather simple, Meg’s dress was much more extravagant and exotic looking. The low neckline and high waistline accentuated her slender figure, and Ray had to admit, it suited her.

Fraser, on the other hand, was wearing something Ray didn’t understand. It was a floor length robe, red, with a large golden cross embroidered on the front. The embroidery was gold, as was the hem of the robe. He also wore a heavy chain with a jewel encrusted cross hanging from it. He wore a red hat that looked rather like a crown, but it was made of silk.

“Hey ya, Frase!” Ray had to raise his voice quite high to get their attention. He was gratified for the warm smiles from both Fraser and Meg.

“Ray! Welcome home! I trust your mother is doing well?” Fraser asked as Ray approached.

Meg’s greeting was equally as warm. “We’ve – that is, Ben has missed you. It’s good to see you back, Detective. Are you supposed to be Philip Marlowe?”

Ray was shocked that someone had finally gotten it right. “Yep, and are you Marie Antoinette?”

“Ray, Marie Antoinette was a real person, not a fictional character. She was the wife of Louis –”

“Ben! Actually Ben is Cardinal Richelieu, and I am Milady de Winter from –”

“The Three Musketeers! Dumas, I know. It was one a my favorite books in high school. But Frase I thought you’d come as somethin’ dorky, like Hamlet or somethin’.”

“Ray! Hamlet was far from ‘dorky’. He was a great Shakespearean character, who has been portrayed by a number of very fine actors –”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Plummer, Branaugh ‘n Richard Burton are s’pposed ta be the best.”

“Among others.” 

Ray could not interpret the look on Fraser’s face, he thought he looked rather crestfallen.

Meg did not care for the look on Fraser’s face either. She wasn’t sure what had been said to threaten his good mood, but she was determined to change the subject. “Ray, you never did tell us how your mother is doing.”

Ray smiled. “She was pretty bad off for a while, but she’s just fine now. Just in time for me ta get back for this great party.”

“The christening of Great Expectations. Turnbull and Kerri have really done a lot with the place, don’t you think?” 

Meg cast a sideways glance at Ben. Whatever had caused his mood shift, it was gone now.

“What’s that?” Ray pointed at the tarnished silver object Fraser was holding in his hand.

“That, Ray, is a key.”

Ray smirked at his Mountie friend. “I know it’s a key, Mister Take Everything Literally Mountie. What I meant was why are ya fiddlin’ with it?”

Fraser held up a large silver key, suspended from a long red ribbon. “Turnbull found the key hidden behind a wall in the attic. They’re doing some renovating up there too, and violá, he uncovered this key.”

Ray took the heavy key from Fraser and studied it for a short time. “It looks like a skeleton key. I wonder what –”

“Ah, that’s the fun of it.” Meg grinned at him. “Kerri’s got us all guessing the story behind it. The best guess gets a prize. Ben and I have just been trying to come up with what it might open.”

Alice in Wonderland joined the group. “I think it opens a treasure chest. Maybe treasure off one of those Spanish gallon ships. It was hidden by pirates, and has parts of twos –”

“Alice, I think ya need ta slip back through the lookin’ glass. It’s Spanish Galleon and if ya mean pieces of eight, we don’t have pirates ‘n Chicago –” Fraser was about to speak up but Ray continued, “okay, maybe Great Lakes pirates, but not Spanish Galleon pirates. And ‘sides the building was built in the early 1900’s, so a buried treasure is kinda farfetched.”

“But rather romantic, when you think about it.” Meg interjected. “I like the idea, Francesca. You should enter it.”

“Ya mean there really is a contest goin’ on?” Ray glanced in the direction Fraser pointed, toward the front counter, and saw a glass fish owl with folded pieces of paper in it. “What’s the prize?”

“An early edition of ‘A Christmas Carol’ and other Dickens short stories. Kerri and Turnbull will select the winner later this evening.”

“Hmm, maybe I can come up with somethin’. Mind if I take this off yer hands for a while?” Ray wandered off staring at the silver key in his hand.

____________________________________

Ray wandered through the partygoers fingering the key, trying to conjure up its hidden secrets. He had a pretty active imagination, but for the life of him he couldn’t come up with any legitimate reason for the key being hidden in a wall in Turnbull’s attic.

He suddenly realized he was hungry again, so he momentarily forgot all about the key and went in search of some of the unrecognizable food he had yet to try. Kerri was just coming out of the kitchen as Ray entered the tearoom. He could tell she was just a little frazzled and wondered if he could help.

“What’s up? Ya need some help, or somethin’?”

“Thanks, no, I’m just about done. Just making sure everyone has plenty to eat. You need anything else?”

Ray laughed. “I haven’t eaten this much at one time in…well, a long time.” Ray took his plate full of food he could not recognize and followed Kerri into the main room. He put the plate on the counter by their antique cash register, that he loved to punch the ‘no sale’ key on and was almost ready to take his first bite when he noticed four sets of eyes staring at him from under the counter, somewhere near the floor. 

“What the – Hey, Dief, what’s up? Who’s the company ya got here?” Ray finally recognized Maggie, Dief’s lady friend, and Dickens. But he didn’t recognize the fourth animal, whose head Dickens rested his chin on. “Hey, Dick, who’s the fur ball?”

Dickens raised his head, narrowed his dark brown eyes and growled from deep within his throat. 

“Ray, shh! Don’t offend her. This is Cameo. She’s a friend of Dickens’.” Kerri whispered in his ear, “I think they’re in love.”

Ray was beginning to think that everyone in this place had a date, except him - even the dogs! He squatted down and came close to Cameo.

“Sorry buddy, no offense.” He started to scratch Cameo’s head and Dickens growled again. “Hey, I may be hard up, but I’m not about ta steal yer girl. I just wanna say hello.” Dickens quieted but did not move from his protective position at Cameo’s side.

Ray patted her on the head and smiled. Cameo was apparently a Lab, just like Dickens, but a little smaller and a totally different color. A color that reminded Ray of really good chocolate milk, not the kind you make with the powder stuff, but the kind you get from the market. Her eyes were darker brown and were warm and soft looking. Ray felt like she was smiling at him. She had the sweetest dog face he had ever seen. He immediately liked Cameo, and he did not like dogs.

He continued to pet her as he talked to Dickens. “Ya know, Dick, ya got good taste. Really good taste.” He straightened up to find Kerri smiling at him.

“She is pretty, isn’t she? She’s a chocolate Lab. She and her brother, Carob, live down the street.” Kerri whispered in Ray’s ear again, “they’ve been ‘seeing’ each other for a couple of weeks. Aren’t they cute?”

“Yeah, right, cute.” Ray slipped Cameo a sugar cookie from the plate on the counter when he thought no one was looking.

Kerri wandered off to find her husband, and left Ray to stand at the counter and watch the party. He could hear laughter coming from the back of the room, and when the crowd cleared enough, he could see what everyone was laughing at.

Fraser and Meg were playing Twister, and as he watched Meg lost her balance and fell head long onto the mat, taking Fraser down with her. Ray had never seen Fraser laugh so hard. Not at Meg lying on top of him, but at the sight of Meg with a face full of silver wig, and skirts halfway up her thighs. Very nice thighs, too, from what Ray could see. He found himself smiling broadly at his friend’s happiness.

If he had been looking very closely he probably still would not have seen the figure of an older man shaking his head in disdain at the couple sprawled on the floor. The gray haired man wore an Inverness cape, a deerstalker hat and had a calabash pipe clenched between his teeth. Ray would have been pleased to know that he was not the only detective present at Turnbull’s party. Sgt. Robert Fraser, or the ghost of the man, depending on one’s interpretation, leaned against the far wall of the reading room, doing great justice to the likeness of Sherlock Holmes. 

Fraser Sr was certain that his invitation had been lost in the mail and would never have considered that he might have been looked upon as a party crasher. His son had told him earlier in the evening that his getting an invitation was ludicrous, as ghosts do not have mailing addresses, but Fraser Sr was undeterred. He did consider that when the invitation finally arrived the stamp would be worth saving.

Ray tore his gaze away from the embarrassed Fraser and Meg, struggling to regain their footing, and glanced around the room. He spotted Turnbull leaning against the shelves near the reading room, holding Kerri back against his chest. He had his arms around her waist, and his chin resting on the top of her head. Ray’s smile grew even broader; they looked just like Dickens and Cameo!

As he munched on some really good unrecognizable food, Ray watched the rest of the people at the party. Ray figured Huey had had enough of that costume because he and Dewey had ducked out fairly early. Most of the others remained though, enjoying the company too much to leave.

____________________________________

As Ray continued to eat the delicious, unnamed food he had on the counter in front of him, he silently guessed at the costumes of the other partygoers. Debbie and Peitro were Becky Thatcher and Tom Sawyer, Pete’s straw hat and ragged cut-off jeans making those two costumes easy to identify. Mr. Hansen, the dry cleaner from across the street and his wife were Mr. and Mrs. Fezziwig, from ‘A Christmas Carol’. Hansen wore a plaid waistcoat and black silk cutaway jacket, with green wool breeches. He and ‘the missus’ both wore powdered wigs. Ray only knew they were the Fezziwigs because he’d heard Turnbull comment on how appropriate the costumes were. Mrs. Calvo, accompanied by her son Rafael, wore a very exotic Spanish looking costume, a form fitting black lace dress that was short in the front, but tapered down to the floor in the back. Her hair was pulled tight in a bun at the nape of her neck and was secured with a large tortoise shell comb. Ray saw the castanets she carried and was sure she was a flamenco dancer. Raf was dressed as a Spanish caballero, but Ray had no idea what fictional characters they represented.

Susan and Doug West had to take the prize for the most appropriate costumes. Ray had heard Kerri and Turnbull talking about them. They were dressed as Mrs. Havisham and Pip. Susan wore a dirty white lace wedding gown, so tattered it almost fell of her body, and Doug was dressed as an 19th century Fop, complete with black morning coat, white gloves and a black top hat. Ray remembered the characters well; as much as he loved ‘The Three Musketeers’ in school he had hated ‘Great Expectations’. 

Old man Papadopoulos, the butcher from around the corner, and his wife Athena, came as Rhett Butler and Scarlett O’Hara. Ray thought they were a little long in the tooth, and a little too heavy in the weight department, but he had to hand it to them for their creativity.

His favorite of all the costumes had to be Lance and his friend Art. Lance as Sir Lancelot and Art as King Arthur. They had really out done themselves. Lance wore chain mail and a hammered metal helmet, and Art wore a flowing purple robe and gold jeweled crown and carried a sword reminiscent of Excalibur. Ray had always wondered about Lance, and now that he had come to the party with a date who was a guy, Ray was sure. He thought about it for a minute and decided that it was cool. ‘Whatever turned your crank’ that was his motto.

As Ray continued to study the people in the room he realized he was happy. That was kind of a unique feeling for him, at least recently. Well, maybe a little longer ago than recently. He couldn’t remember the last time he was really happy – yeah, he could. He’d been happy for about two weeks when he had spent the time in the company of Jeannette. And before that it was when he was with Stella. 

But he was happy now. He didn’t have a lady, but he was not alone. His mom was doing great and he’d gotten close to his dad again. He’d stopped feeling that way about Kerri, and Turnbull and Kerri were going to make it. Even Fraser and Meg were cool in their relationship. As he thought about his friends he realized that everyone he’d spoken with this evening, that is everyone he knew, had asked about his mom. These people really did care about him, and that’s what made him so happy. He was beginning to feel like maybe he was a pretty good guy, and maybe he didn’t suck so bad after all.

As Ray stood at the counter he failed to notice the couple who walked in the front door. The man wore a cream colored, three-piece linen suit with a narrow brown pinstripe and wide lapels, with a pale pink scarf in the breast pocket. His shirt was crisp white with a pale pink stripe and had a high, ascot style white collar. His wide Windsor knotted tie matched the pocket scarf in color and fabric. On his head he wore a panama hat with a wide brown silk band. The brim of the hat was turned down just slightly over his forehead.

The woman who clung to the man wore a dress that was white gossamer, shiny with hundreds of tiny iridescent beads, that sparkled as it fell straight from her shoulders with fringe around the calf-length hem. The neckline was low cut and it had flowing sleeves. The filmy costume may have nearly mid-calf length, but it was slit so high up one side it revealed the lacy top of her thigh high stockings. She wore a long chiffon scarf that was wrapped around her neck and held at her shoulder with a rhinestone clip. In addition to the rhinestone clip she wore large pearl drop earrings, a long rope of pearls around her neck and a glittering diamond tennis bracelet on her wrist.

She also wore a wide brimmed, flouncy summer hat decorated with all manner of pastel colored spring flowers, lilacs, roses and daisies among them. Her blonde hair fell in soft waves around her face, and from under the brim of the hat her eyes shown bright with excitement.

Ray never did know why, but he slipped off of his happy cloud just long enough to notice the couple as they sauntered into the room. It was obvious to him that they were Jay Gatsby and Daisy. It was also obvious to him that Gatsby was Ray Vecchio and the woman hanging all over him was Stella. 

____________________________________

Holding his wife in his arms, Renfield was happier than he could ever remember being. Their love for each other had deepened over the last few weeks, if that were possible, and he finally felt safe and secure in their relationship. Kerri was calm and relaxed again and had at last stopped having the nightmares that scared both of them so much.

Watching the party whirling about them, Renfield could not help but smile. Their business was growing, slowly, but steadily, but more than that, they were surrounded by good friends. There was little more that Renfield could ask from his life.

He smiled at several different people as they passed by, and his heart was warmed by the affectionate smiles he received in return. Yes, all was right with the world.

Renfield saw the couple immediately after the front door opened and recognized them about two seconds later. He watched them enter, and saw Ray react. “Shit!” he whispered.

Startled out of her reverie by Renfield’s uncharacteristic curse, Kerri jumped in his arms. “Renny, what on earth –” She froze in mid-sentence as she saw what had caused Renny’s oath. “Dear God!” she returned his whisper.

Ray stood at the front counter, fists clenched at his side, trying desperately not to gape at the couple now standing in the center of the room. Unfortunately, he could not tear his eyes away from the man whose life he had lived for so long, and the woman whose life he had shared for even longer. The happy cloud Ray had been sitting on five minutes earlier evaporated like so much steam.

Vecchio and Stella spoke to several people in the room before Stella locked gazes with her ex-husband for a brief moment. When that moment passed she turned to her escort and brought his mouth to hers for a long, deep, passionate kiss.

“Did you see that?” Kerri hissed at Renfield. “She did that on purpose! Just to hurt Ray. How could she do that? How could anyone do such a hurtful thing?”

“Shh, he’ll hear you,” he whispered back.

“I don’t care if they hear me! What an awful thing to do, and Vecchio’s just as bad, he brought her here.”

“I don’t care if Stella hears you either, but I don’t want Ray to know anyone noticed anything. It would be too embarrassing for him.”

Kerri stopped in mid-objection. Renny was right, of course, and it was extremely insensitive of her not to have realized the same thing. She glared briefly at Stella and then turned to smile weakly at Renfield. “You’re right, I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Renfield returned her smile. “You’re just feeling protective of Ray, like any good friend would. But this is his problem, we need to butt out.”

“Can I strangle her first, then butt out?”

Renfield’s eyes had darkened to a blue so deep it was almost black as he watched his best friend react to his ex-wife’s presence. He did not look at Kerri as he responded to her. “You know as well as I do that it takes two to make a marriage work, just as it takes two to make a marriage fail. We don’t know what happened between them while they were still together, and I’m sure that Ray is not entirely blameless. Her being here is unfortunate, but Ray is going to have to deal with it.” He said the words, but still had to restrain himself from grabbing Vecchio and his date and shoving them both back out the front door.

Ray was dealing with Stella’s presence, just not very well. He felt like someone had sucker punched him right in the gut and succeeded in stealing all the air from his lungs. It took every ounce of physical strength he possessed to keep from passing out from the shear intensity of the pain. He tried his best to hide the agonized look he was sure was written all over his face. He knew everyone in the room was staring at him, knowing what a loser he was. The feeling of confidence that had been growing in him since he walked into the party now evaporated along with the happy cloud. He even felt his costume, of which he had been so proud, was now just a stupid gray coat and a dirty old hat.

He continued to stand at the counter, trying his best to concentrate on the plate in front of him. But somehow, the nameless food that had been so great just five minutes ago was now the most unappetizing mess he had ever seen. He could barely choke down one fork full.

Finally, when he couldn’t stand looking at the food any longer but could find no other place to look other than at Vecchio and Stella, he grabbed the silver key and made his way silently up the stairs.

____________________________________

To his immense relief, Ray found that the second-floor apartment was deserted. He stood in the center of Turnbull’s living room for a couple of minutes, unsure as to what to do next. Finally he plopped himself down on their old, overstuffed sofa and buried his head in his hands.

He sat that way for a long time, alternating between being furious with Vecchio for bringing Stella to the party, being more furious with Stella for flaunting herself in his face, and being more furious still at himself for being such a loser.

He was shaken out of his angry contemplation of just how much he really did suck by a soft nudge to his arm. Glancing up, he was greeted by the softest, sweetest brown eyes he had ever seen. 

Cameo whined softly and placed her chin on his knee, but her eyes never let his. “Come ta feel sorry for me, sweet face?” When she sighed deeply, Ray knew that she was just trying to be friendly. “Sorry, I guess I’m doin’ a pretty good job a that all by myself.” He scratched her head and was amazed at how much better he felt. “You do a pretty good job of cheerin’ a guy up, ya know that?”

“Then maybe you don’t need me?”

Ray jumped, as for a split second he thought the words had come from Cameo. Kerri laughed softly at his surprise. “Labs are very smart, but I’m pretty sure they can’t talk.”

“Ya just startled me, that’s all.” Ray really didn’t want to talk to anyone, especially Kerri. He much preferred to be left in the company of his chocolate friend.

Kerri knew he was avoiding looking at her, so she sat next to him without even attempting to make eye contact. She sat quietly for just a moment before she felt she had to say something. “Life can really suck sometimes, huh?”

Ray almost laughed at her words. “Suck? Yeah, I guess it can.”

“We didn’t invite her, you know?”

“I know. But it’s a free country.”

“I’m sorry –”

Ray jumped to his feet and yelled at her. “Don’t pity me! I can feel pitiful enough without yer help –” If he could have crawled under the rug and hid for the rest of his life he would have gladly done it. “God, honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean ta yell, ‘specially not at you.”

He plopped himself back down on the couch next to her and laid his head back against the cushions. Kerri rested her head lightly on his shoulder. “What are we going to do with you?”

“Shoot me?”

It was Kerri’s turn to rise up in anger. “Don’t you ever say such a thing!”

“Kerri, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean – I was just kiddin’!”

She met his eyes for the first time, and Ray was surprised to see tears in them. “Don’t you know how much I worry – how scared I am for you, for all of you, all the time? You and Benton and Renny? Oh sure, Renny doesn’t do the kind of dangerous work you, and even Benton do, but I’m still married to a cop. My best friends, the people I care about most in the world, are cops. Please, please don’t kid about something like that!” Her anger subsided as quickly as it had come. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to any of you,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I’ve been shot, once, ‘n I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. Hurts like hell.” He frowned in thought for a brief moment. “How ‘bout I promise ta never get shot again? Just for you?” Ray was relieved to see Kerri begin to smile.

“Just be safe, okay?” Ray nodded. “I really need to get back to the party, I just came up to get you. Please come back down?”

“I think I’ll sit here fer awhile. Sweet face here’ll keep me company –”

“Please don’t stay up here. Don’t let Ray and…and what’s her name spoil the party for you.” As soon as she said it Kerri realized it was already too late for that. “You going to be all right?”

Ray smiled bravely at his friend. “Yeah, just gimme a few minutes, ‘n I’ll come down.”

Kerri reluctantly left Ray and returned to the party.

Ray sank back against the sofa cushions and began to take stock of his life. He was divorced, alone, a total slob, had experimental hair, wasn’t too disgusting to look at, had an okay job, a terrific, if often irritating, unofficial partner, who was also his friend, and several other friends who he was sure cared about him – even if they were almost all Canadians. He had to admit that on a scale of one to ten, his life right now was heading for about a seven, maybe sometimes even an eight. Tonight rated about a two, though.

As he sat on the worn out sofa that he, Turnbull, Fraser and Meg had hauled up the stairs the day Turnbull and Kerri had moved in to the apartment, Ray thought he heard movement in the attic. He hardly had a chance to consider what the sound might be when he heard a woman scream and the unmistakable sound of a gunshot.

____________________________________

Feeling extremely disoriented Ray hesitated just briefly before dashing toward Turnbull’s kitchen. He came to an abrupt halt in the doorway. Although her costume was different, and he couldn’t see her face from this angle, Ray knew exactly who it was who lay on the cold tile floor. He’d recognize that body anywhere, he knew it as well as he knew his own. It was the body of the woman he had loved since he was old enough to know that there was a difference between boys and girls, or at least old enough to care. The woman who lay in the middle of Turnbull’s kitchen floor was Stella.

Ray was frozen in place, too scared to let his heart accept what his brain already knew. He’d been a cop a long time and seen far too many shooting victims not to know that this one was beyond his help. When he was finally able to force his legs to propel him in the right direction, he went to the center of the room and knelt by her. She lay on her side, facing away from him, but Ray was afraid to touch her, afraid to see the face of the woman that had caused him so much pain, and so much happiness.

“Stel?” he whispered, hoping desperately that she would respond with one of her bitchy comebacks. There was a time of course, when she had loved him that her comebacks weren’t from anger. They’d had their share of loving, more than their share, in the beginning at least. But over the last few years she had really not treated him very well. Sure their marriage had failed, but did she really need to be such a – bitch – all the time? Ray shook off his thoughts and gently touched her shoulder. He knew she wouldn’t, couldn’t respond, but he hoped…

There was only a small stain of blood on the silver sequined dress she wore, just over her left breast, but Ray instinctively knew the bullet had pierced her heart. The lack of blood and her new costume nagged at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t let that concern him – yet. Her head lolled back as he raised her shoulders from the floor and buried his face in her neck.

There was only just a moment for tears, however. He knew that whoever had done this terrible thing was only just a few minutes ahead of him. And then he heard the noises in the attic again.

He reluctantly laid her back on the cold floor and knelt by her just briefly before he pushed his grief aside and let anger become his driving force. He had to determine the source of the noise in the attic.

The stairs were around the corner, off the back of the apartment, and Ray took them two at a time, in a desperate attempt to intercept whoever had murdered the woman he loved - and hated. He didn’t notice the new gold wallpaper, flocked with red paisleys, or the shiny brass handrail that led the way toward the top of the stairs.

What he did notice, because he ran headlong into it in the darkened stairwell, was a heavy solid oak door. “What the hell? When did Turnbull put this damn thing here?” he muttered as he tried the knob. But the door was locked. “Shit!” he shouted in anger and frustration. He had to get in there, and there was no time to get Turnbull to open it for him.

Then he remembered the key he had stuffed in his pocket when he first heard Stella scream.

____________________________________

He didn’t know how he knew, but he knew. He knew that the key in his pocket, the key that Turnbull had found hidden in the attic would open this door. And he was right. But, not only did it unlock the heavy door, it unlocked it as if both the door and the key were brand new.

Ray burst through the door and stopped dead. He had entered a small, dimly lit room. There was a counter that ran the length of one wall with all kinds of coats, from cloth to mink, hanging behind it. There was a bright red velvet and mahogany settee on another wall, with a red cut glass lamp sitting on a mahogany table next to it. He hadn’t noticed the wallpaper in the stairwell, but these walls were covered with the same thing, a golden background with red flocked paisleys.

Ray gave all this only a passing thought, thinking the décor looked like someone’s bad dream, as he headed for the only door, directly across from the ugly red sofa.

This door was not locked and gave easily to the pressure of a man urgently seeking the goal he was sure was on the other side. What actually was on the other side caused him to be frozen in his tracks for the third time in just a few short minutes.

This time he could not ignore his surroundings. The room was huge, with a high ceiling and tall windows that looked onto the street in the front, and onto the alley in the back. He sure as hell didn’t remember Turnbull’s attic being this big. It had to be at least 100’ in length and the vaulted ceiling was certainly 20’ high at the peak. The room was hot and smoky, and the ceiling fans that turned lazily from overhead did little to cool the air or dissipate the haze.

Not only was Turnbull’s attic much larger than Ray remembered, but it was also full of people, a few of whom he recognized, but most of whom he had never seen before. Closest to him, in the corner, was a small stage area. On the stage, under a soft pink spot light, was a grand piano, and perched on the piano, holding a very large microphone, was a fair skinned black woman, who looked vaguely familiar. She wore a long chocolate brown, sparkling beaded dress that was almost exactly the same color as her skin. The dress flowed to her ankles, but she sat with her legs crossed, and the dress was slit so far up one side it afforded everyone a fine view of her very long, shapely legs. From his angle Ray could not be sure, but it looked like the dress was backless, the front being held up by a collar at her neck. On the collar she wore a huge cameo. She spotted Ray staring at her and smiled, accentuating her sweet face and large brown eyes. Her eyes were what reminded him of someone, he just couldn’t think of who.

The man playing the piano was dressed in a pale yellow plaid three-piece suit. The vest he wore was light brown and had a watch chain hanging from a small pocket with an engraved gold tag that read 'Dickens'. He wore a brown derby hat over longish pale blonde hair. While Ray stared admiringly at the singer’s legs the pianist frowned at him with narrowed brown eyes.

The surreal surroundings in which Ray found himself caused him to momentarily forget that he was searching for the person who had murdered Stella. When he was finally able to at least partially shake the disorientation, he began to scan the room of anything out of the ordinary. 

Oh, yeah, like this is gonna be a piece a cake! he thought, sarcastically.

In the center of the large room were several tables, with countless numbers of men and women sitting at them. They were all dressed in costume, the men in old-fashioned tuxedos, with starched, wingtip collars and brilliant white shirts. The women all wore similar types of colorful dresses, with lots of feathers, plumes, and long strands of pearls. All of them were either drinking something from teacups, or had the teacups sitting in front of them on the tables.

Ray frowned deeply and scratched his head just below the edge of his gray fedora. All of this reminded him of something – but what?

He continued to search the room, looking past the pool table, along the far wall. What he saw there caused him to gasp. There was Fraser, sitting at a poker table, playing cards with three other men whose faces he could not see. Fraser was also wearing a tuxedo, but the sight of his friend was not what caused Ray to gasp. Hanging from either side of him were two women, and the crowd had shifted just enough to provide Ray with a view of who they were. On Fraser’s left hung Meg, dressed in a red sequined, very low cut dress. She bent low over him, gifting him with what looked to be a fine view of her cleavage. Her hair was waved around her face, and she wore a red sequined headband with a red feather plume sticking out of it.

Glaring at her from Fraser’s right was Frannie. Dressed much like Meg, except her costume was royal blue, Frannie tried her best to catch Fraser’s eye. From Ray’s vantage point she seemed to be doing pretty good job. As Ray watched, Fraser looked away from Meg’s cleavage, and pulled Frannie down to him for a rather passionate kiss.

“What the Hell?” Ray whispered under his breath.

____________________________________

Ray could not help but continue to search the room. He had stopped trying to uncover anything out of the ordinary. Hell, everything was out of the ordinary here!

Standing behind and a little to the right of Fraser was a man whose face Ray could not yet see. He wasn’t wearing a tuxedo, but instead a black double breasted, pinstriped suit. His shirt was also black, but his tie was white. He wore a white panama hat with a black hat band. Standing on either side of him were two men, dressed in almost the exact same way, but hatless. Ray did recognize them, they were Huey and Dewey. All three men must have been musicians, because each one of them had a violin case at his feet.

As he stared at the three men the one in the center turned to Huey, and Ray knew immediately who it was, Lieutenant Welsh. Had all these people changed their costumes? And hadn’t Huey and Dewey gone home much earlier in the evening?

Ray tore his gaze away from Fraser and the people surrounding him to continue searching the room. He finally spotted the neon sign on the opposite wall from where Fraser was sitting, that apparently told him where he was. Which at this point was a very good thing, because he was really beginning to wonder. The sign hung over a long oak bar and read ‘Ren’s Nest’.

“What the Hell?” Ray was beginning to feel like that was all he knew how to say.

Several people leaning against the bar chose that moment to return to their tables, and suddenly Ray could see Turnbull standing at one end. Dressed in shirtsleeves, with garters on each upper arm and black suspenders, Turnbull was deep in discussion with Lance.

Ray was about to approach his friend when he spotted Kerri sitting alone on a stool at the opposite end of the bar. Even she had changed her costume. Ray was really beginning to wonder if all this was really happening.

Kerri spotted Ray at just about the same time he first saw her. He saw her smile in recognition and motion for him to join her. As he made his way through the crowded tables Ray kept his eyes on her, feeling grounded by her smile.

“Hey, Ski! Didn’t expect to see you back quite so soon. You’re looking a little funny, you feeling okay?”

Ray wasn’t sure she was speaking to him. “Did you just call me Ski?”

Kerri laughed at him. “Of course I did. What else would I call you? You’d probably hit me if I called you ‘Stanley’.” She frowned as she looked even more closely at him. “You’d better sit down, you look awful.”

“I’m not feelin’ so good. Why’s everybudy got different costumes on? And when’d you an Turnbull put a bar up here?”

“Turnbull and me?" she sighed. "I wish. Ski, have you gotten a hold of some bad gin? You know Ren’s only got eyes for Lance. Look at them.” 

Ray turned to the two men at the opposite end of the bar, and watched as Lance tenderly touched Turnbull’s cheek, and looked deeply into his eyes. Kerri hung her head and sighed, and Ray knew beyond any doubt that he was dreaming. 

Hey, he thought, this could be interestin’!

“Ski? Answer me! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just kinda mixed-up. Where am I, or better yet, what’s day is it?”

“Honey, you really don’t know?” Kerri was alarmed. “It’s Saturday.”

‘Well that’s right,’ he thought. “But what year?”

“God, Ski, you are mixed-up. It’s 1924, and this is Ren’s place. It’s kind of a not so well kept secret. It’s Big Benny Blue’s favorite night spot and attracts all kinds of hangers-on.” She gestured toward the entire room. 

Ray almost laughed out loud, Big Benny Blue? “You mean Fraser?”

“That’s his name, yeah. But nobody calls him that anymore. Not since he became the Godfather’s second in command, anyway.”

Ray watched Fraser at the poker table. Second in command of a crime family? Ray turned back to Kerri. “Are you a hanger on?” he asked.

She looked wistfully at Turnbull. “Only in my dreams,” she whispered.

Suddenly he remembered why he was here. “Kerri, someone killed Stella, I gotta find out who.”

“Stella? Oh, you mean Star? Only you would call her Stella, and never to her face. I thought you hated her? What do you care if she dead or not?”

“Kerri! I can’t believe ya don’t care that she’s dead!”

“Why should I care after the way she treated you?” Ray was shocked at her vehemence. “We’d hoped - I mean I’d think you’d be happy. I’ll ask Hardy or one of the boys to move her out of--”

“Hardy?” He’d have to remember that one.

“Big Benny’s bodyguard. I call them Hardy and Har and Har. But don’t tell them that.”

Hardy, Har, Har. Huey and Dewey! God, he’d really have to remember that!

“Ski, I’m really worried about you. Are you really upset about Star?” She touched his arm and gave him a look of concern that melted his heart.

“I loved her, Kerri. She treated me like shit sometimes, and didn’t love me anymore, but I really loved her.” An all-encompassing feeling of grief overwhelmed him, and despite his best attempts to hold them back, tears spilled from his eyes.

Kerri drew him into her arms and cast a worried look over his shoulder at Big Benny Blue, who was watching the scene at the bar intently.

Ray didn’t see Fraser snap his fingers at Hardy, Har and Har. Or see the Lieutenant, Huey and Dewey jump into action and leave the speakeasy through the same door by which Ray entered. He didn’t see the violin cases that they carried with them, and he also didn’t see Fraser leave the poker table and walk toward him.

____________________________________

By the time Fraser reached them, Ray had been able to compose himself. When his eyes met his friend’s Ray could see the compassion there. He thought that rather odd for a mob boss.

“Ski? You okay? What’s happened?” Fraser knew very well what had happened, but realized Ray was not reacting the way they had all anticipated.

“Sorry, Frase – uh, Benny. Somebudy killed Stel – er, Star.” These names were getting confusing. But whatever her name, Stella was still dead, and even if he was dreaming, Ray was determined to find out who was responsible.

“Why don’t you come over and sit with us? We can talk.” Fraser gave Kerri a look that surprised Ray. It was a look that said she was not welcome at their table.

Ray hated to leave her alone, but Kerri really didn’t seem to mind. She looked as if she was content to stare at Turnbull for the rest of the evening. He whispered in her ear, “if it’ll help any, I happen ta know that he loves you. Give him some time, he’ll come round.” About 75 years, he thought, but of course he didn’t say that. Ray winked at Kerri and followed Fraser back to the poker table.

Fraser put his arm around Ray’s shoulders as they approached the table. Everyone there seemed to be glad to see him, even Meg. “You know Greta and Chessie, right Ski?” Fraser nodded toward Meg and Frannie. Sure he knew them, but not by those names. 

Okay, he thought, I guess Greta could be short for Margaret, but Chessie? Yuk!

“And this is my superior,” the man sitting with his back to Ray turned at Fraser’s introduction, “Ray Vecchio.” 

The pain from the last time Ray had seen Vecchio was still fresh in his mind, but he shook the hand that was offered. “Mr. Kowalski, I understand you’re a Shamus. Benny here speaks very highly of you. Any friend of his is a friend of mine. Please, sit with us.”

Fraser seemed slightly nervous around Vecchio, and Ray felt the all too familiar disorientation wash over him again. Something was wrong here, and Ray had to find out what.

“You’re Big Benny’s boss, huh? All these goombahs work for you?” Ray was tickled with himself, he’d always wanted to use that word.

“Gombah? Well, I suppose you could call my aides that. Benny seems to think you’re upset about something. Is that correct, Mr. Kowalski?”

“Call me Ski. Yeah, somebudy murdered my wife – ex-wife. I need ta find out who.”

“And if you were to find out this thing, what would you do with the knowledge?”

Ray was about to say, ‘arrest the son of a bitch’, but realized these people thought of him as a private detective, not a police detective. They also seemed to trust him. He measured his response carefully. “I s’pose I’d wanna know why they did it.”

Ray pondered Ray’s response for a moment. “And if the man had a good reason? What then?”

Ray felt as if he was being baited. He wasn’t sure what to say, but since he had nothing to lose, he told the truth. “I can’t imagine what a ‘good reason’ would be.”

“Let me tell you a story, Mr., sorry, Ski. It’s a story about a woman who thought she could continually tease and manipulate a man. A woman who used her power over this man to get everything she wanted, and then she cast him aside. He was a well-respected man and had a great number of friends. But the woman's treachery did not end there. This woman took up with a new man, one who thought she might love him. As it turned out, however, she was only using the man to make the first man jealous. Now, I ask you, does a person like that deserve to live?”

“I –”

“I would say that it would very much depend on who the woman chose to manipulate, Ski.”

"Did you kill Star?"

Ray smiled broadly as he looked at his 'family' sitting or standing around the table. "I ask you, my closest friends, would I do such a thing as to murder a woman?"

Everyone, even Fraser, shook their heads.

“So this is hypo…hypo…just a story, right?”

“Mr. Kowalski, Ski, you have my word that I did not harm your wife, and I am not privy to the knowledge of who did.”

Ray didn’t know why, but he believed the man. He was sure that Vecchio played some part in taking Stella’s life, but he believed him when he said he didn’t know who had actually pulled the trigger. It didn’t make any sense, but what else was new?

“If you will excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I have business to attend to.” Vecchio rose from the table and, with a small army of men gathering around him, left the room through a door that Ray had failed to notice before.

Greta, or Meg to Ray, sashayed over to him and cuddled in close. Ray couldn’t help but smile, and pray he’d remember this for a long time to come. She dragged her body across his back and whispered in his ear. “Ya know, Ski, he’d just as soon kill a man as talk to him. They don’t call him Ray the Razor for nuthin’. But he likes you, haven’t got a clue why, but he does.”

Oh yeah! He had to remember this!

Ray glanced toward Fraser, to see if he was treading on thin ice, but Fraser seemed more interested in Frannie, correction Chessie, than in watching Greta tease him. Ray was relieved because, dream or not, he didn’t want Fraser to think anyone was trying to beat his time.

“Hey, Benny. Does he know who did it?”

“He told you he didn’t. Don’t you believe him?”

“Yeah, Benny, I do. But I gotta know who. I loved her, ya know?”

Chessie sat in Fraser’s lap, desperately trying to hold his attention, but failing. Lots of things were different in Ren’s Nest, but Frannie’s pout directed toward Fraser was nothing new.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you, Ski. I don’t know.”

Why didn’t he believe Fraser?

____________________________________

Ray spent the rest of the evening mingling with the crowd, innocently talking to everyone he could, asking them indirect questions, and getting exactly nowhere. These people were used to being on the wrong side of whatever law they had in this town and knew well how to clam up when necessary. Ray guessed that staying on the good side of Vecchio also made tight lips a necessity.

He finally worked his way around the room and back to the bar where Kerri was sitting, still staring doe-eyed at Turnbull, who was still staring doe-eyed at Lance. “Ya shouldn’t pine away for him, honey. Find another guy, one who likes girls – like me.” Ray grinned at her, and Kerri smiled in return.

“I don’t know why I waste my time here, Ren will never be interested in me, and I’m not one of Benny’s girls, or Mr. Vecchio’s for that matter. They don’t really like me to be here either," she leaned close, to whisper in his ear, "you see, they don’t trust me. I’m just not one of ‘them’. I’m Canadian, you know.”

Ray’s smile broadened. “I think I heard that. Ya think they hold that against ya?”

Kerri sighed. “Oh, sure. I’m not included in their group because I’m a foreigner. I get kind of lonely sometimes. I’d like to have Big Benny smile at me once in a while, he has such a beautiful smile. And just once I’d like to have Mr. Vecchio ask me to sit at his table. But most of all,” she cast a sideways glance toward the opposite end of the bar, “most of all,” she turned back to Ray and smiled slightly. “Never mind, it’s not important.”

Ray did mind and it was important, but he really didn’t know what to say, so he attempted to change the subject. “Kerri, you hang around here a lot. Did ya ever hear Benny or Ray talkin' ‘bout Star? Or know of anybudy that might have any reason ta kill her? Anybudy have a fight with her lately, or anybudy she pissed off, more than usual anyway? I promise I won’t tell anybudy what ya tell me.”

Kerri studied Ray’s face for several long moments, and then stared at the bar top for a few moments more. Ray began to realize that she knew something, something that she really didn’t want to admit.

She looked into his eyes, searching for something Ray wasn’t sure he could give her, reassurance. “You know how much everyone around here cares about you? We all hated to see the way Star treated you. And then she took up with Mr. Vecchio. She really used him, to hurt you, you know? He’s really good to his friends, but you sure don’t want to cross him. She was treading on really dangerous ground." She looked into his eyes, her eyes bright with unshed tears. 

Ray began to frown. He had a horrible feeling that this might lead somewhere neither of them wanted to go. "Maybe ya shouldn't tell me any more. Maybe I'm better off not knowin' anythin'."

"I…I didn't know she meant so much to you. She was such a bitch. My daddy taught me to never speak ill of the dead, but she was – a bitch. I…just –”

Ray grabbed her arm. "Kerri, don't –”

"I hated to see her treat people like that, especially you. You didn't deserve that. I…I wanted to stop her, wanted to stop the way she was treating you, and maybe . . . maybe get some of these people to…to like me…I'm not sorry, only sorry that you're sad about it.”

“My God! Kerri, you?”

“Ray? Ray? Ray! Wake up, you’re dreaming.”

He was jolted awake by a familiar voice and someone shaking his knee. “Ray, you’re dreaming.”

“No shit! Dammit, Stel, whaddya haf ta go ‘n wake me up for? Damn, what a dream!” Ray rubbed both fists in his eyes and opened them to see Stella sitting on the coffee table across from him. 

When he was finally awake enough to get his mind back into the present, he smiled at her. "I dreamed…somebudy killed ya. I'm real glad yer not dead."

"I guess I can see why you would dream that I was murdered." She pursed her lips and sighed. "I'm sorry Ray, I never meant –”

"Sure ya did." He said as he stifled a yawn.

"Pardon?"

"You meant ta do exactly what you did."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it, Stel. Ever since before we split, you've played me like one of them kid's yo-yos. Hold me close, then push me away. But don't let me get too far before you jerk me right back again. Every time you saw me 'bout to break free 'n start ta live my own life you'd do somethin' sweet ta make me realize I still loved ya, or do somethin' like ya did tonight, ta make me jealous."

"Is that what you believe? Ray, I'm so sorry –”

"Ya know, I really think ya are. I know ya love me in yer own way, 'n I'll always love you. But tonight ya just pushed me away a little too hard, and that yo-yo string just snapped." He leaned forward and put his hand on her knee, just like he'd done a million times before. "What you did with Vecchio, honey that really sucked…”

"He told me the same thing. So I lost both of you, in one night." She looked so forlorn that Ray almost rethought his feelings for her - almost, but not quite. "He told me to find my own way home and left. There are not too many people downstairs that will even speak to me, and I think if Kerri could have gotten her hands on me she would have strangled me."

"Or shot ya," Ray muttered under his breath.

"Usually I don't give a shit what people think, but it must be nice to have friends that care so much…”

"Yeah, sometimes I forget just what a lucky guy I am." He jumped up and turned for the stairs. "If ya need a ride I'll take ya home, but I gotta do somethin' first."

He turned and ran down the stairs. Stella was so startled all she could do was sit, with her mouth gaping open, and listen to his shouts die out as he got farther and farther away, "Hey, guys, don't be givin' that prize to nobudy else, 'cause have I got a story for you. Ya see the key opened a door to a speakeasy upstairs called…”

____________________________________

Epilogue

Renfield and Kerri trudged slowly up the stairs, arm in arm. Kerri rested her head against his shoulder as she smiled the smile of a deeply satisfied woman.

"Hope Ray likes his prize."

"He'll probably use the book to level the legs of his kitchen table. He was grinning like the cat that swallowed the canary when you gave it to him, though."

"I liked hizstorybest. That wasagreat party. Don'tyathink?"

Renfield frowned slightly at her slurred words. She must be really tired, he thought. "It was the best party I have ever been to. You made a delightful hostess, and a very provocative Maid Marion."

He bent to kiss her just as she stumbled on the steps and Renfield was forced to catch her before she fell. "Kerri! Are you all right?"

She swayed in his arms and grinned up at him. "Kerri Turnbull! You are, what my Grandmother used to call, tiddly!”

She giggled as she swayed. "Am NOT! What's tiddly?"

"I believe I have heard Ray refer to is as soused. Drunk, my dear. What on earth did you have to drink tonight?" Renfield was alarmed and tickled at the same time. She was so cute, even in this condition.

"Just Mr. Mustafi's wonerful fruit punch. It was sooo hot down there, just alotapunch."

Renfield closed his eyes and sighed. "Honey, I saw him dump at least a fifth of rum into that bowl. Boy, are you going to regret it in the morning. But right now," he said as he swept her into his arms, "let's get you to bed."

Kerri giggled as she started nibbling on his ear lobe. "You too. Bed's more funwifyou." She ran her hands through his hair and planted wet kisses all over his face.

Renfield laughed as he carried her to their room.

“Wanna haf un wif you in bed!”

“You know I think I might just remind you of that, when you are actually able to carry through!” Renfield undressed his wife and tucked her into their bed. She was asleep even before he could kiss her goodnight.

It was probably just as well that Kerri fell asleep when she did because he didn’t want her teasing him about what he was about to do. He just couldn't wait to take that key and go ghost hunting in his attic.

The End


End file.
